Amon and Laundry
by Aisling Niamh
Summary: Updated! The reposting of said fic with some changes. Amon has severe domestic issues, resulting in decidedly parodic series of events. And no, it doesn't make sense to us either.
1. In The Beginning There Was Amon

**_Amon and Laundry v 2.0 _by Aisling-Niamh**

**Disclaimer: Ais does not own anything you recognize. **

**This is the re-posting of A&L, with some changes, small or large, because Ais is never satisfied with anything she does, apparently. Thank you to everyone who reviewed v 1.0! I haven't been around in so long because of jobs and school and various other things.**

â€â€â€â€â€â€â€.

Amon stood staring in desperation at three very large hampers overflowing with various kinds of black cloth. He had nothing to wear. Literally nothing to wear. He'd worn the same outfit for four days, and tomorrow was Febreeze time. Touko had done his laundry until very recently; before that he had just thrown everything in the Laundromat machine and put it on hot with way too much soap. Then he'd had to buy new clothes all the time. They kept shrinking, and he kept running out of money. Even before that his brother and mother had done all the laundry.

But now he was alone. There was nobody left to do his laundry; they had all abandoned him. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He _could _ask Nagira but he sure as hell wasn't about to. Nagira was an expert at teasing even his brooding younger brother. It almost made him wish he hadn't broken up with Touko—if their relationship hadn't exactly been good, he had gotten clean, normal-sized clothes out of the deal. He wondered sometimes

He knew he was just procrastinating on the _much_ more urgent and distressing problem at hand.

"I don't have enough money to buy another complete wardrobe again! Maybe I should go buy that Febreeze now" he said out loud, for once not muttering. But then he had an inspiration. He would ask somebody from the STN-J to help him.

Amon quickly got a roll of extra-large plastic trash bags and some twisties, and began methodically moving all his clothes from the three huge hampers to the trash bags, and twisting them carefully closed. He stripped all the (black) bedding from his bed and bagged it too, and even searched under the bed for (black) dirty socks. He remembered to check the bathroom for used (black) towels.

All in all, it amounted to six very full bags. He sat down on the floor in the middle of them and sighed. What now?

He could ask Robin... No, he couldn't ask Robin. He didn't know why, but he couldn't. It would be about as bad as asking Nagira, he reasoned. Ugh. Robin, with her weird hair, with her glasses always way too far down on her nose, her beautiful emerald eyes like that one really good scene in The Wizard of Oz

Amon thwacked his head. Hard.

Let's see. He could ask Sakaki... but Sakaki probably got Doujima or some girlfriend, landlady, or sister he didn't know about to do everything for him.

Speaking of Doujimaâ€ No, she couldn't keep a secret if her life depended on it, and it was very embarrassing to not be able to do laundry...he really didn't want it to get out. His credibility as a Hunter could be called into question!

Michael seemed pretty self-sufficient and he could probably keep a secret. But of course he couldn't exactly _leave..._

The Chief and Zaizen were immediately crossed off the list for obvious reasons. Amon gave the Signature Amon Frown. Like hell was he asking Hattori for anything.

It was either back to Robin or... wasn't he forgetting something?

Oh yeah! Karasuma! Of course! He'd worked with her the longest, he knew she could keep secrets, he wasn't romantically attached to her in any way (which seemed rare anymore), she would know better than to make fun of him like some idiots he knew –coughsakakicough-- ...and of course she could do laundry.

He pulled the Great Black Audi from the black garage and into the driveway, popping the trunk.

Amon was frustrated. Only three of the six (black) bags of dirty (black) laundry would fit in the Great Black Audi's trunk! And to make matters worse, the old neighbor lady stuck her head out the door.

"Mr. Amon, if you have that much trash, then why don't you just put it out on the curb instead of taking it to the dump? Are you remodeling? It's about time, with all that black! Don't you ever get tired of it? My cousin Effie"

Amon shivered, shoved the rest of the bags in the back seat, slammed all the doors and the trunk, and peeled out of the driveway as fast as he could.

â€â€â€â€â€..

Amon saw that Michael was the only one around when he arrived at the STN-J.

"Where's Karasuma?" he asked shortly.

Michael didn't hear him. Once again, loud American hard rock music was blasting out of his headphones as he sat in front of his computer doing God-knows-what.

"Michael. Michael! MICHAEL!"

"Huh? Did you say something, Mr. Amon?"

"TURN YOUR MUSIC DOWN!"

"If you don't talk louder, I'll have to turn my music down."

Amon muttered under his breath and shot Michael the Patented Amon Death Glare.

"Uh—Oh! You mean turn the music down! Gotcha!"

Michael received another Death Glare for good measure. "Where is everybody?"

"Let's see—Haruto and Miss Doujima went on a Hunt."

"Sakaki and Doujima?"

"Miss Karasuma called in sick today. She said she has a really bad case of scry-induced flu, whatever that means. And Robin's doing some research in the conference room."

"Dammit!"

"Are you okay, Mr. Amon?"

"Fine. _Just_ fine."

â€â€..

Robin sat at her seat in the conference room, flipping through the witch's bio for the hundredth time. There was nothing to do. Karasuma was sick, Haruto and Doujima were on a Hunt and they didn't seem to want her along, Amon was uncharacteristically late, and she didn't want to bother Michael anymore. The day was so slow they might as well all go home.

"Robin."

"Amon?" He had appeared behind her suddenly.

"I need you to do something for me."

"What?"

He leaned closer and looked in her eyes.

Robin's heart: THUMPthumpTHUMPthumpTHUMPthump

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Uh... yes?"

"I need you to do my laundry."

Robin's mouth dropped open several feet. "Excuse me?"

Amon glanced around nervously. "My laundry," he whispered. "I can't do it myself. Don't tell anybody!"

Then, to retain his Badassness, he shot a death glare at various unidentified spots around the room.

"Your laundry."_ Oh jeez._ "Er... this is a definitely a side of you I can safely say I've never seen, Amon."

**You probably didn't notice, being as it hasn't been updated in centuries, but I pulled down New Life, my 'serious fic,' for revision. Expect a Noir fanfic at some point, too.**

**There seem to be some format problems, so if there's any weird random things that don't make sense, that's what it is. I mean, like more than usual. --rolls eyes--**

**----Ais**


	2. And Then There Was Robin

****

A&L Ch 2 of V 2.0

Disclaimer in Ch 1

The second chapter of my repostingness. Thank God for weekends. The first few chapters will probably not be changed very much. Much patchouli to Hyde for helping me with this chapter-ness. Isn't it wonderful how I put '-ness' at the end of everything.

………………………..

Robin couldn't help but stare wide-eyed at the back seat of the Great Black Audi. Therein was contained three very large, very over-full black plastic trash bags.

"That much?"

"There's three more in the trunk."

Robin wished she had some Advil already. "Oh. Well, did you bring a lot of coin rolls?"

"Yes," said Amon, never one to waste words.

They rode in silence, as usual.

Once at the Laundromat, Amon glanced around suspiciously. Although he would never admit it of course, he was rather worried about being seen.

"We can take four bags if we each carry two, and then come back for the remaining two. Robin, you take the two on the left side. I'll take the two on the right."

__

He sounds exactly like he's planning a Hunt… thought Robin. _I wonder if he'll say…_

Amon turned back to her with one bag in each hand. "Oh and Robin. We can't afford any more mistakes."

__

Yup. I guess he will. "Amon, wouldn't it be a lot simpler if you just used the washing machine at Touko's and my apartment?"

Amon paused, wondering why he didn't think of it. "I already thought of that, of course, but if that's really what you want to do, I might as well. We can't afford any more mistakes."

"So you said." _And just _how_ does that pertain to this?_

"And I meant it," he added darkly. "If you keep changing the plan like this we'll run out of time. Time is what we don't want to waste now. If I'm not back to work soon, people might get ideas."

__

Hmm… Ideas?

"Come on," he said, darkly again, throwing the bags in the back seat. "Let's move out."

"Yes Amon," Robin sighed.

Again they rode in silence, but of course.

…………………………………………….

Amon held two laundry bags in one hand and the orbo gun in the other, peering around the door frame at Robin and Touko's apartment. He waved the gun back and forth and his eyes shifted around… shiftily.

"All clear," he muttered into his headset. "No Touko in sight." _Thank God,_ he thought. _Bad breakup_.

Robin sighed. "Amon… Touko's at work."

"But we can't afford any more mistakes!"

"Yes Amon. Quite right….whatever you say…"

Getting inside, Amon surveyed the room suspiciously before dashing over to the washing machine, peering suspiciously around each corner and doorway he came to with the orbo gun again (and the laundry).

"Are you sure this place isn't bugged, Robin?"

"Very, very, very, very sure, Amon."

"Cross your heart?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

"AND?"

"AND stew and fry and stick a needle in my eye! Happy now?"

Amon grunted.

Amon sat the bags down in front of the washing machine and did the Amon Shifty Eyes Thing again.

"All clear?"

"Amon, we're just going back to get the other two bags."

"But we…"

"… yes, can't afford any more mistakes, I know."

He fixed her with a Sullen Glare of Moderate Strength Especially Reserved For Young, Beautiful, Irritating Fire-Craft-Users. "Robin, you've got to take this more seriously. My self-sufficient reputation is at stake."

And scuttling back out the same way he came in, Amon somehow managed to get out of the apartment, down the stairs, get the bags out of the car, and come back within ten minutes.

Robin undid the twisty-ties on the trash bags and dumped the whole thing in the middle of the living room.

"What are you doing?" Amon asked (darkly). "Doesn't that go in the washing machine?"

"Eventually. But see, you have to _sort_ it first."

" 'Sort?'" he muttered, putting obvious quotes around the word. "Why would you do that?"

"So nothing shrinks or…" Robin paused and looked at the mass of black around her. "I guess nothing would bleed…"

"Now Amon, I want you to hold up each piece of clothing, okay? And I'll tell you what setting it goes on and then you put it in one of three piles. Does this make sense?"

"Uh… Settings?"

"Just a minute." Robin went into the kitchen and got a large bottle of ibuprofen and a big glass of water for her massive headache, swallowing them as she came back into the living room. "Like hot or cold, Amon."

"Uh…lets just get on with this. We can't waste time and we can't afford any more mistakes."

"That would be why we're sorting them. Hold up a piece of clothing."

"Which one?"

"Any one."

"Uh…"

"Think of it as a random unknown piece of data you have to find. So you have to start one by one."

"Oh. I see what you mean. Black socks."

"Hot."

"Black pants."

"Cold."

"Long black shirt."

"Warm."

"There's a _warm_?"

Robin wondered if she would need another bottle of ibuprofen by the end of this.

"Black bath towel."

"Hot."

"Black boxers."

"Amon, do you have anything that isn't black?"

"No. Black boxers."

"Hot."

………………………………….

After a very, very long time of sorting by water temperature, Robin explained to Amon that now they would have to divide each water temperature pile into something mysterious called _loads_.

"You see, all these things are wool, so they have to all go together in one load. All these are cotton, so they all go together. Is this making sense?"

"Uh…what's a load again?"

"How about we move on to starting the machine."

"Well… you know we can't…"

"Amon! Don't! Even! Think! About! Saying! It!"

"Robin. I just think you're not considering the time element here."

"AMON! LAUNDRY TAKES TIME! THINGS IN LIFE TAKE TIME!" Robin not-quite-yelled. Amon wondered if she ever _could_ yell. She began to consider the prospect of bourbon on the rocks.

"I don't care. You'll have to make them take as little time as possible. It may be a fact of life that things take time, but its also a fact that I don't have time. We're wasting time just sitting here arguing about time. Let's get this done."

__

That has got to be the longest speech he's ever made. I guess desperate times call for desperate measures. "I'm not arguing, you're arguing!" she muttered, sorely tempted to set him on fire. "Now you see this little button thing on the washer? We're going to do hot cycle things first."

"Why should we do hot cycle things first? Is it faster? It should be faster. It must be."

"Shut up, Amon. _It conserves hot water_."

__

Did she just tell me to shut up? "Did you just tell me to shut up?"

"Yes. Put half the hot-cycle things in. I have given up on further sorting. Then see the button thing I just pointed out? Turn this to 'hot' and press this, see?"

"Uh…"

"Never mind. Then see this? This is called _soap_, also known as _detergent_. I am _really_ hoping you know that. You put _this much_ in, and _don't forget_ to close the lid."

"Uh…"

"Just do it, Amon! Time, remember?"

"Time!"

"Did you just use an exclamatory sentence?"

"While I'm doing this," he said, ignoring the question, "could you run that soap thing by me again?"

……………………………..

****

Hmm. Bad idea to attempt revision while the Tsu is poking me to death and yelling something about Naruto and trees, not to mention that cats are attacking me from various angles and I haven't eaten anything all day.

……………………………

FDF: Hey, thanks! Nope, I don't mind. I might note that I am evil-ER!!!!!!

****

Elyndewen Startree: We do indeed. For I am evil, have a weird sense of humor, and am never satisfied. And those together are most interesting indeed…

****

St Earns: I my me strawberry eggs. I doubt the world is ready for the Noir Parody-ness. But the henchmen just HAD to have their say, you know? :D

…………………………………..

****

Well, there's chapter two. Practically nothing has changed in that one. Crazy Tomboy, you can call off your giant miniature evil space hamsters now… they're ripping up the window screens. :D

----Ais


	3. Then came the dry cleaning

****

A&L v 2.0 Ch… uh… 3?

Was trying to get this up last night because I didn't want to bother today (I'm sorry, Ms. Niamh doesn't _do_ Mondays) but Unforeseen Circumstances prevented me. Bah.

…………………………………………………………..

Amon paced back and forth—and back and forth—and back and forth—and…(well, you get the idea) in front of the washer muttering things about time and mistakes.

"Robin, when is this stuff going to be done?" Amon asked.

"When it gets done, Amon."

Amon stopped pacing and whirled around to face her. "What if Touko comes back?" he asked darkly and, as usual, without emotion. "We can't..."

"...Afford any more mistakes, I know. It's not even lunch yet, Amon."

"Robin, I'm getting this suggestion that you're patronizing me. Are you patronizing me, Robin?"

"No, Amon."

"Are you sure? My gut instinct..."

"No, Amon, I'm sure. How about you do something besides pace for a while? It might get your mind off it."

"As long as you don't patronize me," he said, giving her a slight Sullen Glare Reserved for Patronizers. Instead of pacing, Amon now sat down and drummed his fingers on the washing machine.

"Um, Amon, that's not going to make it go faster."

"We haven't got any time," he growled.

"It's all right, Amon, calm down."

"Ha! You're patronizing me, aren't you?"

"No."

"I don't believe you."

"All right, you can believe whatever you want."

Amon fixed her with a Sullen Glare Saying _I Will Shoot You With a Stun Gun_ and got up.

Amon: Pacepacepacepace mutter pacepacepacepace mutter…

"Amon, you're making me nervous."

Amon fixed her with a Sudden Glare Guaranteed To Cause Stomach Cramps And Indigestion For A Month. Robin just sat there. She was not intimidated by Amon Glares.

**__**

BEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!! Said the washer.

I hate that thing, thought Robin.

"It is done," Amon intoned darkly.

"Uh, Amon, you forgot about the dryer."

"The what? Oh, the dryer. Of course. But we have no time!"

"And you have a lot more loads to go and a bunch of wet clothes. Go get us lunch from Harry's, or something!"

"Mutter," said Amon. "Muttermuttermutter." But he walked out to the car (yes, with his orbo gun) anyways.

Robin loaded the wet clothes in the dryer and stuffed the washer with hot-load clothes, as she wondered yet again why the _hell_ she was doing this. Although not exactly in those terms. And Robin's back, like Ais's, was really starting to hurt from bending over all the time, despite the ibuprofen. So Robin decided to lie down on the couch until Amon got back. Like Ais is going to do.

Trust us, Robin could tell when Amon got back. She heard a lot of noises like '_scuttlescuttlescuttle_ _thump_ _ka-chunk swishswish_ _runrun'_ and only Amon would do that just going into one apartment with food.

…………………………

"Amon," Robin said, "I am _very hungry_. What are you doing?"

"Where do you keep your metal detector?"

"Amon… You're just trying to make me mad now, aren't you?"

She's onto me! "No. It is Typical STN-J Procedure."

"AMON!"

"What the hell was that?"

"My stomach," Robin sighed.

"FEED ME!" yelled Robin's stomach. "OR I'M NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN!"

Amon had never been threatened by a stomach before. If it was possible, he would have been distressed, but being Amon, he simply put the food quickly on the coffee table.

I knew I let Sister Mary Helen teach me ventriloquism for some reason…thought Robin.

I never knew anybody with an anthropomorphic stomach before… Amon mused.

………………………………………………….

Robin's stomach was now happy, and the washer again said **_BEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!_**

"Someday I'll figure out how to turn that off," Robin muttered. (Muttering is a known side effect of being around Amon for too long) "See, now we take these out and put them in the laundry basket, because the stuff in the dryer isn't done yet. All these black sheets and pillowcases go on warm."

Amon shoved them in the washer and noticed that there was a little room left. He decided to stick his coat in too.

Robin threw herself in front of the washer. "No, Amon!"

"No?"

"It's dry clean only!"

……………………………………………….

Mwahahaha. The Anthropomorphic Stomach chapter. Not much changed again.

………………………………………………

Lucifer's Garden: Gotta love the name. Glad it made your day!

St Earns: If Robin transformed into Lavie, the sound would go up ten decibels, at least. C&M say that they certainly forgive you and they would like some tuna fish.

Carri: Dude. Dell. Damn, I've wanted to say that all day. I need mental help. Anyways, thank you. I have my undead minion repellent ready. :D

AnimeReviewer790: I'm glad to hear it! Praise you with many praises! They first few chs are going to be practically identical to the original.

Fiery Demon Fox: I could argue that I'm evil-er-er-er, but it would go on forever. :P Thanks!

Elyndewen Startree: Nope. 'Bout the same. Completely, utterly nonsensical.

……………………………………………………

Well, that was chapter three, which is masquerading in my file folder as chapter four, thus the 'uh'. I SO need to clean my laptop out…

------------------Ais


	4. Whereupon There Is A Flashback

****

A&L v 2.0 Ch 4, somehow masquerading as Ch 5 in Ais's document folder.

--Plays air-guitar to Saliva—Oh! Hi! I'm in a totally random mood again. Am I ever NOT? Anyways, the large portion in italics was written by Hyde. Yall remember Hyde? Amon Acquires A Nuisance? Professional Censor of Ais's Language, Eater of Lima Beans, Official Caretaker of Royal Cowpit, Second in Command to Ais the Mother Goddess of the Ficness? Yup. As it is, on with it.

…………………………………………………..

"Do you want any espresso?" Robin asked. "Or coffee? I could make some."

"Yes. Coffee is fine."

Robin was an expert in coffee and espresso making. She got down her Melita coffee press and special long coffee spoon. She poured filtered water into her special coffee-water-boiling whistler kettle, and lit the stove with her Craft (her favorite part). She reached for her normal Dark Roast Whole Bean Coffee, but this was a special occasion. Amon actually paid attention to another human (or Witch?) for once! So instead she got out her extra special Gevalia whole-bean coffee, which was very expensive, only sold by the Gevalia coffee company at Christmas, aged to its pinnacle of perfection, and drunk once a year by the Swedish royal family at Christmas Eve dinner. As you can tell, this was the equivalent of a really good brandy or a well-aged wine to her. She happily rinsed out the coffee grinder.

In case you were really wondering, this is what a coffee grinder sounds like: chkchkchkgRRRIIIIIrrrRRRchchchRRrRrRggRRRiIiIIIIIIIRRRRiiichkchkchkrrr!!!!!!!!!!

Yup. No kiddin'. One of Ais's best sound effects.

Amon stuck his head into the kitchen. "I am not particular about my coffee. You can use pre-ground if you want."

Robin shuddered.

"…or not…" Amon went back to pacing in the living room and finishing off the rest of his lunch.

Robin had a method for making coffee entitled T-P-P-B: Twiddle-Plunge-Pour-Bring. After the water had boiled and sat with the coffee grounds in the Melita press, she stirred it with the coffee spoon and slowly pushed down on the plunger. This took care of the Twiddle and Plunge elements. Now she got down two pure white cups and saucers and completed the Pour element, afterwards setting them on a tray for the Bring element.

"Amon?" Robin asked, and set the tray down on the coffee table and quickly sweeping away the remains of lunch, neat freak that she was. "What are you doing?"

Amon waved violently for silence and continued to speak into the communicator. "No… no, I didn't hear anything, Michael… like I said, the—uh—assignment will take longer than I thought… If anyone wants to know, that's where we are."

After Amon put the communicator away, they sat in silence for a moment.

"Amon?" Robin ventured. "Why can't you just admit that you're at my house because you can't do laundry?"

"Mutter," Amon… yeah, muttered. And, taking up his coffee cup and turning the other way, he (you guessed it) began to brood silently and darkly. He wasn't supposed to be here; it was Touko's apartment too. Touko had loved him, and he guessed that a long time ago he had loved her back. But… things had changed. **(Hyde cues violins)**

And Touko had known it. It had been the last straw. See, this is what had really happened. Ais and Hyde, to Amon's great distress, went into Investigative Reporter Mode and managed to find the real story:

_Touko sipped the drink and then set it on the counter. As her back was turned to Amon, she set her face in one of firm resolve.Turning to face him, her resolve melted._

Amon (actually) noticed her inner turmoil and said, "What's wrong, Touko?"

"Amon, it's just..." her voice faded. She told herself she had to go through with it, but her mouth resisted the words that had formed many times in her mind as she prepared for this.

"What, Touko?"

She turned her face away, then turned back, a hint of pain in her eyes, yet the look was gentle. She had to do it gently.

"Amon, I can't go on this way," she said quickly with heavily expelled breath, trying to get it out before she failed again.

"What do you mean?"

Having gotten that far, she now stumbled. "I...it's just...it's the...well, the laundry and the dishes and the housecleaning. Amon, I can't handle it all anymore!"

"Touko..." Amon said, trying to calm her. Now that she had gotten going, she was starting to get riled up.

"No, Amon, listen. I have my own housework and dishes and laundry. For Pete's sake, Amon, I was hoping not to have to wash laundry for two until I was married! Don't get me wrong, I don't mind helping you out. But this is too much."

"Touko..." Amon said again, not quite sure what else to say.

"Amon, you and me just aren't going to work out. The laundry, the Sullen Glares, the dishes, the brooding, the housecleaning, the love triangle…"

"Touko..." Amon said once again, feeling quite at a loss, though he of course did not show it.

"Call me when you can do a load of laundry, or when you get a dishwasher," She said, letting a hint of sarcasm creep into her voice.

"Fine, Touko, go." He said with quiet anger, giving her a shallow yet intense Sullen Glare Calculated to Figuratively Freeze Your Pants Off.

"Amon, I'm sorry," she said, wishing there was more she could say.

"Don't be," he said darkly, averting his Sullen Glare to the window and switching it to one Calculated to Melt All Windows Within Ten Miles.

"Good-bye, Amon. I....I'm sorry." She started for the door, then turned back. "Please, I still...I just...only...don't mistake me, I..."

"I won't." he said firmly, darkly, still facing the window.

"Good-bye." A tear ran down her cheek. Amon remained sullenly silent.

"I...love you, Amon."

"Don't say that," he said, turning and fixing her with a Sullen Glare Reserved For Those Who Look Down on Those Who Don't Have Dishwashers.

She turned and fled.

Amon turned back to window and darkly and sullenly glared a Glare That Fries All Pigeons In the Near Vicinity.

Love triangle… brooding…sullen glares…huh! 

**__**

BEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!! Screamed the washer.

"AMON!" Robin cried for the fourth time, as Amon was jerked uncomfortably back to the present from the kindly-provided, strategically-placed, Ais-fueled flashback with added violin music provided by Tsu, abruptly dragged in by the ear and relegated to the roll of tape-recorder operator (as Hyde had a sudden Butter Pecan Ice Cream craving)… ANYWAYS…

"Yes?"

"Do you want more coffee?" He realized she was standing there holding the Melita press.

"Yes," he said, and stood up to see if he could actually do something with the washer.

"See if the load in the dryer's dry."

And although Amon didn't show it, he was very proud of himself. For he had started the dryer all by himself this time.

………………………………………………..

That, my friends, was one of the Flashback Chapters in which nothing much happens.

………………………………………………..

AnimeReviewer790: Once again, thank you much. I'm trying to get half of it up before my birthday on the 19th.

Kanno: No, I took the original down. Sorry! –ducks under table—No kill! I have a high heeled shoe and I know how to use it! Yup, I've got a laptop. And you can't have it. Mwahaha. But you can have the desktop… (Its name is Stegosaurus, if that tells you anything) Glad you liked it! Oh, and the original is basically this, except I wasn't in my right mind at the time I wrote it, apparently. Now I shall stop talking.

FDF: Yes, the anthropomorphic stomach. One of my more interesting moments. :P

St Earns: Yes. Poor Robin. Poor abused ibuprofen bottle. Yes, Claus is a C Claus. It fits him better. :D

………………………………………………

shameless plug Yes, see, I have this other fanfic for the Noir section. It's a sort of parody. And you don't have to know anything about Noir except that there are many random henchman with the same character design who get bumped off using one bullet by a Japanese high school girl and a professional assassin from Corsica. See? Go read! Mwahahahahaha. /shameless plug

Yes, yes, I know. I just thought I'd try it. :P

-----Ais


	5. Whereupon Secrets Are Revealed

A&L V 2.0 Ch 5

……………………………………..

Yes, the infamous Dry Cleaning Chapter! Bwahahahahaha!!!! Once again, Hyde wrote the huge part in Italics. And this chapter is specially dedicated to GOPWA, because she just rocks, because of THE KYOUNESS and because I said I would, and because this chapter involves much Amon-ness. Mwaha.

…………………………………………………

Amon stood staring down at Robin in the front window of a red-at-white dry-cleaning store. "Can you tell me what to do?"

"Yes. It's much, much simpler than working a washing machine, trust me. Now you take off your coat…"

"I take off my coat."

"And you give the man your coat."

"And I give the coat to the man…"

"And then you take the ticket."

"I take the ticket."

"And then we leave and go back and finish the laundry."

"Then we get the coat and leave and go back and finish the laundry."

"No, no, you give the coat to the man."

"Yes, I know I give the coat to the man, Robin. We've already assessed that fact."

"No, that's not what I meant. You leave the coat with the man."

"What? Give him my coat?"

"Just leave it with him! So he can clean it!"

"Oh. And what will I do with everything I keep in the coat?"

"Well, I'd think you'd want to take it out of the coat and bring it home."

"But then everybody will be able to see I'm carrying a gun."

"Amon…"

"What am I supposed to do with my shoulder-holster?"

The dry-cleaning attendant, a short, thin middle-aged man, was watching with great amusement from behind the desk and trying not to laugh. After all, it is not every day that one gets two individuals dressed in black arguing over a coat in monotones.

"Everybody who looks at you probably thinks 'RUN! GUY WITH HIGH-POWERED WEAPONRY!' anyway, Amon. What does it matter?"

"Do they?"

"Never mind, Amon. Take everything out of your pockets."

He was about to protest, but he saw a Disturbing Fiery Light began to appear behind her eyes and quickly obeyed.

"Um, Amon? Just how many clips of ammo do you have?"

"Hmm," he muttered, and began to count. "Twenty-three… no, twenty-four."

"And you were going to just throw the coat in the machine before without taking all this stuff out?"

"No. I already did. You just didn't see me." His eyes shifted.

Added to the pile of ammo clips was a very large set of keys, several scraps of paper with illegible things scribbled on them, a cell phone, a wallet, another set of keys, a 'pocket knife' that looked suspiciously like a switchblade, and various other unknown things that had obviously been run though the wash a few times. Inexplicably, there was also a vaguely crumpled Post-It note with _'tu supernus caseus et vitulina caro et omnis mons qui eructat flammas…(1)'_ (here it trailed off) written on it. Robin had only a moment to ponder not only Amon's peculiar dislike for certain foodstuffs and geological features, but also his bad sentence structure, before wondering why on Earth he would possess such a thing. Apparently we will never know.

The poor dry-cleaning man tried not to look frightened, especially as Amon cast upon him a Glare Calculated To Completely Fry The Hair Off The Heads Of All Nosy Dry-cleaning People.

"Is that absolutely everything, Amon?"

"Well… no…"

"Come on, then, Amon."

"Robin," he muttered. "It's kind of personal."

"We haven't got all day. Remember everything you kept saying about 'time?'"

Robin was getting tired of this. Take the stuff out of the pockets, give the guy the coat, take the ticket, go home and take the stuff out of the dryer. And maybe drink some more coffee. It should have been simpler than the simplest thing in the world. She began to slowly remove her glasses from her coat pocket in a very determined way. It was meant to attract Amon's attention quickly and it did.

"Fine." Grimacing, he reached into a pocket deep inside his coat and pulled out…

"GASP!" said Robin.

"GASP!" said the poor Nameless Dry-cleaning Guy.

"Mutter," said Amon, and grimaced again. Being as he was too manly to blush.

For Amon had pulled out…

Oh God, Ais can't say it,

Amon had pulled out…

A COMB, A MIRROR, AND HAIRGEL!

………………………………………………..

The ride back to Robin's was naturally quite strained. The notion that Amon's badass hair was not completely natural was just too much for Robin to take **(And some others as well. Ais: NOOOOOOO!!!! –weepweep--)** And thus, Amon had more time to brood. He brooded upon when he had first met Touko:

__

Screen: wBbbbllbBBblllLLLLbbbbwwwwbbBLLlleee…. (wavy-fade in to flashback, cue Laundromat noise)

Amon was in the Laundromat. He stuffed a bunch of clothes and towels in the washing machine and started it. He had a sort of feeling that it wasn't quite right somehow, but he figured that as long as they got wet, it would be okay. When the washing machine was done, he took the wet clothes out and put them in a plastic garbage bag. Then, he took the rest of his clothes and began stuffing them in the washing machine.

Suddenly he heard a voice behind him.

"Excuse me? You don't want to put that in there. It's dry-clean only probably."

Amon turned around and saw a pretty blonde behind him. She took the coat he was holding and examined the tag (tag? he hadn't even noticed coats had tags).

"Yes, dry-clean only."

"Dry-clean? How's that possible?" I always thought it was the wet that made them clean. 

_She looked at him as though he was insane._

_"You've never dry-cleaned anything before? Wow, I bet you've ruined a lot of clothes."_

_Amon shrugged, slightly insulted, though he of course wouldn't show it. He laid the coat aside and stuffed the rest of the clothes in the washing machine. He closed the door and reached for the start button._

_"Wait," she said, and Amon froze. "Don't you want to put the soap in?"_

'Soap?' What language is she speaking?

"Here, let me do it for you," she offered, and Amon relinquished his clothes to the expert. She got everything washed and dried (there was a machine for drying? He never knew that; his always laid around on the floor to dry).

Amon hefted the two bags of clothes, one dry and one not, onto his shoulders.

"Say, you got a ride home?" she asked.

"I walked," he said impassively.

"How about I drive you and you won't have to carry those bags," she offered.

Amon nodded and followed her wordlessly to her car. As they drove, she tried_ to make conversation._

"I'm Touko," she said. "Who are you?"

"Amon," he said, and left it at that.

"Oh, you're the new hunter down at the STN-J. Dad told me about you."

He raised his eyebrows, signaling the need for explanation.

"Zaizen is my father."

He nodded. When they got to his house, she insisted on helping him carry the bags up to his apartment.

Her first comment as she stepped in the door was, "Wow, do you ever clean this place?"

Clean? An apartment? How, in a house-sized washing machine?

"Ummm," she continued, walking into the kitchenette, "Don't do many dishes, do you?"

What would I do with them?

"You got any rags around?" she asked.

He pointed to a dishtowel that had not been washed since he'd gotten it. She took it and wiped all the dust off the furniture.

"There, much better."

I wondered why everyone else's houses always lacked this gray coating on all the furniture which she calls '_dust'_._ Despite his extreme bachelor housekeeping, Touko felt attracted to this dark, silent, witch-hunter._

"Shall we go get some coffee? I know this great place called Harry's…"

(wbbblllbllllbllllwwllllbbblllbbbbblwwwlllbbbbbwwwbbblll...)

……………………………………………..

"…Excuse me, Amon?" Robin said. "The turn-off is over there." _Does his brooding really get in the way of his everyday life all the time?_

"Yes. I was well aware of that. I am just Assessing The Area."

"Mmm-hmm."

Why do I get the strange feeling she's on to me?

Why do I get the strange feeling he knows I'm on to him?

They both turned and gave Death Glares to each other, and then realized that they were both glaring at each other at the same time, and immediately turned away, pretending nothing had happened.

And the Ais of Rampant Self-Insertion was greatly amused.

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Ais A/n: WHAT! AMON'S HAIR IS GELLED? WHY DID I WRITE THAT?

(1):_ 'tu supernus caseus et vitulina caro et omnis mons qui eructat flammas…'_ This is basically 'you above cheese and veal and every volcano' or something like that. Man, don't ask.

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Supercat: Why thank you. There will be few changes in the first few chapters. _Noir_ is actually extremely good. And yes, I am trying not to talk. –attempts not to talk—

Elyndewen Startree: When I figure out where Hyde is, I shall be sure to tell her. Thank you!

AnimeReviewer790: Yes, my birthday is on the 19th. Happy rather late birthday, and thank you.

St Earns: The Management sincerely apologizes for the bad fade-in/fade-out cues. It had something to do with the cue-card guy's pet hamster, on life support after an unexpected bout of serious heart problems, rallying and requiring him to rush to the hospital, leaving Mirielle and Claus to do the cue cards, as everyone else was conveniently busy. As you can imagine, it didn't work so well.

Fiery Demon Fox: No Noir? ---GASP--- May laundry-eating lipgloss tubes never infiltrate your CD collection.

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Well, Ais has to do it once. Yeah, I know. But I have to do it.

(shameless plug) You know, I would really love it if you would review… because… I… I… --Ais bursts into tears, cues piano and violin—_Because I simply cannot live without them! –teary puppydog face—(/shameless plug)_

Mwahahaha. You have no idea how insanely amusing that is to somebody with no life.

Ivan and the tornadoes cometh. Stay safe!

----Ais


	6. Behold the OOCness!

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A&L v 2.0 Ch 6: Behold the Out of Character-ness!

There are some medium-sized changes to this chapter. It's one of those where I'm like… I MUST HAVE BEEN TEMPORARILY INSANE WHEN I WROTE THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (death by multiple punctuation, I know.) But I couldn't figure out a way to revise some of it without trashing/rewriting an entire paragraph or so. And I'm lazy. Anyways, you didn't come to hear me talk:

……………………………………………..

Robin and Amon (minus the Bad Black Coat) were back at Robin's apartment. Amon had once again started the drier by himself and attempted the washer.

"Robin, just how much coffee have you had to drink?"

Robin counted on her fingers. "Twelve cups, I believe."

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

Robin stared at him, but then remembered that Amon Was Foreign And Therefore Strange and shrugged, then muttered under her breath. "I need at least twice that much just to deal with you every day."

"What?" (said in a tone given to convey great emotion without actually sounding like emotion)

"Oh… Did I say that out loud?"

Amon sent her a Glare Calculated to Make Young Beautiful Fire-craft Users Beg For Mercy.

Robin countered it with a Glare Calculated To Make All Hot Dark Brooding Guys Stop Giving Dark Glares. It worked, apparently, because he stopped.

And the communicator rang.

Amon immediately stiffened and made the 'zip your lips and throw away the key' signal, causing Robin to come as close as she ever did to laughing hysterically, which was a sort of 'humph!' Amon shot her a Glare Calculated to Inform Young Beautiful Fire-craft Users That They Had Better Shut Up If They Didn't Want Their Hair Messed Up, which really wasn't much of a threat, now, was it? But it did the trick, apparently.

"Amon," Amon said into the communicator.

"It's Zaizen. Where the hell are you? Doujima and Sakaki got back an hour ago! And where's Robin?"

"We have An Assignment. We are Busy."

"I'm the one who gives the assignments around here. That excuse won't work. It's one of two things: Either Robin is your –coughcough—girlfriend, or you are over at Robin's apartment, which is also my daughter's apartment, WHOSE HEART YOU BROKE…"

__

Gulp!

"…getting your laundry done, Mr. Self-sufficient! I'm on to you! How much do you have? The whole lot again?"

Amon paused for a moment. "Yes."

"I'll give you today off. But tomorrow you had better be back… or ELSE!"

"What would that be?"

"You know, ELSE!"

Amon quickly hung up. It seemed the nutty Zaizen had had a one too many b-and-s. (Actually, he was feeling somewhat wild today, thus breaking with tradition and having whiskey-and-soda. But our heroes were not aware of this.)

"Zaizen?" Robin sighed.

"Yes."

"Brandy and soda?"

"Yes."

"Touko?"

"Yes."

"That's what I thought. What did he think?"

"Things."

"Things?"

"Yes, _Things_." Amon directed a Glare Calculated To Completely Cut Off Any Sentence One Was Saying in her direction.

Robin was getting very experienced at Counter Glares. Amon nearly wilted, but of course he wouldn't, because Amon does not wilt. However, he appeared to be vaguely crumpled or perhaps creased, but responded with a Counter Counter Glare.

And Robin responded with a Counter Counter Counter Glare.

And Amon responded with a Counter Counter Counter Counter Glare, and…. well you get the idea.

One imagines they would have gone on like this for several hours if both the washer and the drier hadn't gone off at the same time, making Robin jump slightly and Amon suddenly yell, or rather mutter loudly, "We can't afford ANY MORE MISTAKES!"

This made Robin say 'humph' again… and…and…

Oh God, Ais is frightened again…and…

AMON LAUGHED!

"Hurphle," said Amon, the left corner of his mouth giving a tiny, vague twitch.

Robin was startled enough to let her mouth drop open several feet. "Did you just laugh?"

"… No. I Did Not Laugh."

"Ah, yes. I am sure you did not. I'll go get more coffee. You bring the next load into the laundry room."

"I'll make the coffee this time." (The laundry of DOOOM appeared to be wearing on Amon.)

"Well… I suppose. The coffee is in the grinder and the coffee water boiler is on the stove and the filtered water's in the refrigerator, and the coffee press is on the table, and the…"

"I'll find it."

"…and the coffee spoon… If you're sure!"

"I'm _very_ sure."

Amon was trying to figure out how to work the coffee press, as he had a normal coffee maker at home, when he heard Robin give a small shriek. He immediately thought of Death, Doom, and Destruction and pulled out the orbo gun. Sadly this didn't have quite the effect without the Bad Black Coat, but at the moment he didn't notice.

"What's happened, Robin?"

Robin was staring in shock at something on the floor.

"YOU HAVE SOMETHING THAT ISN'T BLACK!" She held up a shirt with a sort of medium-grayish hue.

"Actually, I had spilled ketchup all over it…"

"What were _you_ doing with _ketchup_?"

He gave her a Look Calculated To Make The Strongest Hearts Faint and she, of course, countered it.

"As I was _saying_, I spilled ketchup all over it, and I'd heard somewhere that bleach takes out stains, so I poured a bottle of bleach…"

"A _bottle_? Amon, black doesn't show stains!"

"I know that now. That shirt is old. I was sixteen. It was before Touko. So I poured a bottle of bleach into the… _load_ of clothes, and they all turned gray."

Robin sank down in the middle of the pile of almost-all-black dirty clothes, bent double.

"Robin?" he asked, and her shoulders began to shake.

"Amon!" she gasped out. She did appear to be crying.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine! I'm laughing! Laughing so hard I'm crying!"

"Is that possible?"

"No wonder Touko liked you so much!"

"What?"

"You can't do a darn thing for yourself, but…" she burst into another round of laughter. ('Hurphle, hurphle, hurphle…' is perhaps something akin to the sound, although it doesn't seem quite right.)

"Wait!" he mutteringly exclaimed, and was Amon again. "Touko! Time! Laundry! Can't waste!"

To his great annoyance, Robin laughed again.

"Call me when you've calmed down."

"Amon… You are _nuts… _I mean dreadfully amusing!"

"It takes one to know one," he muttered. But when he was back on the couch with a fresh cup of coffee, his thoughts had a disturbing tendency to drift away from the strong high-proof drink he was going to get sometime in the near future from Harry's. And the Disturbing Thing they tended to drift to was a Certain Dreadfully Underage Slightly Blonde-ish Green Eyed Craft User who was putting Tide with Bleach Alternative in the washer, and laughing to herself all the while. (It was strangely disturbing to one and all. In fact, astronomers had noticed unusual planet alignment, sunspots, and unusual inactivity on Mar's Red Spot on that day. It also seems that something completely unknown caused the Mississippi to flow backwards for a week as well as an extreme disturbance in the tides.)

"Must you do that?" he called. (Muttered/called?)

She came into the living room, attempting to compose herself, and sat down demurely on the absolute opposite end of the couch. "I suppose not, Amon."

"When will my coat be done?"

"We said we'd pay extra for rush. Next morning, I should think."

"But we have no time!"

"Amon, why do you do that?"

"What?"

"Obsess about time."

He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. Then he opened it again, and closed it again. Amon… was at a loss for words! Why _did_ he? He'd never thought about it before! "Well… Because we Can't Afford To Make Any More Mistakes."

And Robin, who appeared to be having the time of her life after the sixteenth cup of coffee, laughed her head off again, in a strange Robinesque way (it probably was not heard more than two feet away, but the aftershock was felt in Australia.) Amon obviously didn't want to laugh again, his Badass Person having been somewhat disturbed in the past twenty-four hours, and so ended up saying something unintelligible, between a cough and a snork.

"We have two more hours. Do you think we can get this done in that time?" Amon asked Robin once she had composed herself.

"Well, no, but we can try. I wouldn't want to run into Touko if I was you, either."

Amon, trying to cling to the last of his Dignity and the remains of his Badassness, attempted to look aloof and uncaring. It, of course, failed. He did not want to run into Touko, and it was surprisingly obvious.

Bah. Touko. Love triangle. See, here he was, sitting in the same room in the same house with Robin, and not feeling anything more for her… than… simple… partnership? Aw, shit.

"Amon!" cried Robin. "What are you doing? Stop hitting yourself over the head with that coffee mug!"

Suddenly Amon turned, crossed his arms, and looked up at the Great Mother Goddess of Almost All Things In This Fanfic, the immortal Ais.

"Mumble!" he said darkly. "My dignity! How do you know what I was thinking?

And the Great Ais answered: "Because I'm The Great Mother Goddess of Almost All."

But Amon was not to be daunted. "I really don't care. First the laundry, then my Badass Hair, and now this!"

The Great Ais wasn't daunted by the undaunted Amon either. "We all _know_ what you're thinking about anyways. So hah."

Amon began to protest. "You're breaking all the fic rules! I am so out of character I don't even know myself! And you keep inserting yourself into the story line!"

"Humph," said the Great Ais, highly insulted. "'Suddenly Amon doubled over with indigestion, crying out.'"

And Amon bent double with indigestion, and cried out to the Great Ais: "OK, OK, I'll stop!"

And thus Ais rested her case. 

…………………………………………

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You know, I can safely say that this chapter is among the stupidest things I've ever written. Among.

BTW, I have my bio up. You can blackmail me now! Take a look!

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AnimeReviewer790: I take it your birthday wasn't very good? Well, thanks for the well-wishing-ness. Here's an icepack.

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CrazyTomboy: --Ais's window screens are relieved—You know, I have NO CLUE where Hyde is. I'm inclined to believe it's the black hole known as High School Band.

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Kanno: Well, I try to get one a day up, because I'm back to work on Monday. BLAGH. Thank you very much!

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Sakura Rain: Behold the GOPWA! Glad you liked your chapter! I seem to be doing a brisk trade in icepacks today. And using excessive punctuation. –hands GOPWA an icepack—

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St Earns: The hair gel is blessed among the nations. You know, Claus is easily distracted by anything that makes any sort of movement/noise or is shiny. Mirielle is easily distracted by whatever interesting things her brother is doing. Union violinists? I was _wondering_ what they meant about 'demands…'

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Fiery Demon Fox: Oh, the hair gel. I simply love the hair gel. I'm glad you laughed! Thanks!

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Well, that's about it. Hyde is currently MIA, so that appears to be what the non-updating-ness is about. (You know how people verb nouns, like 'scrapbooking?' Well, I adverb/adjective nouns. :P)

All reviews appreciated. My Shameless Plug of the Day.

Thanks!

---------------Ais


	7. Whereupon Touko Appears

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Amon and Laundry V 2.0 Ch 7

Well, after this chapter the bigger changes should start. This chapter has Many Sound Effects and a Frying Pan of Doom reference, as well as my lovely soap opera lines, so I rather like it…

………………………..

Robin had managed to wrestle the Coffee Mug of Death (hmm... like the Frying Pan of Doom?) from Amon's grasp. Time had passed, and now Amon was thinking about how long this was taking again, and pacing in front of the washer.

Amon: pace pace pace pace pace….

"Will you please stop that, Amon? We only have two more loads to go and two more to dry. You can sit down."

Amon shot her a Glare Calculated to Make Her Hair Stand On End, but at the last moment he directed it at the washer, changing it to a Glare Calculated To Murder All Evil Time-consuming Appliances.

Robin simply shook her head.

"Look, Robin, it's 4:45. When does Touko get off work today?"

"Um… Five-thirty, I think."

"Will we be done by then?"

__

We can only hope. "We should be."

They stopped talking, and Amon (you guessed it) paced.

Amon: pace pace pace pace pace pace pace pace pace pace… _shoot Glare Calculated To Successfully Fry All Electrical Appliances_… pace pace pace…

It was now 5:00.

"MUTTER!" he muttered, and reached for his orbo gun. "Robin! Somebody stole my orbo gun!"

"It's on the coffee table, Amon."

"Oh." He rushed over to the coffee table, picked up the gun, and rushed back to the washer. Standing back with a Determined Look on his face, he pumped (Ais is counting) onetwothreefourfive… no, six orbo bullets into the washer.

"Amon! What are you doing?" Robin cried, jumping up.

"Mutter!" muttered Amon, and wondered just what he had been thinking, and if the things the doctor had said about that 'fractured cranium, potentially effecting the occipital lobe in a minor but not particularly debilitating way' were actually right.

And at this exact and unfortunate moment, Touko walked in. "Hi, I'm home early… What the…? AMON NAGIRA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

Amon's eyes shifted. "Mutter."

"Aha! Robin! Amon! Coffee! Pigeon! Oyster crackers! I see it all now! How dare you? You come here, cheat on me by letting The Nun do your laundry, and take revenge on my washing machine!"

"Hey! I'm not a nun!" Robin said.

Touko shot her a Glare Calculated To Shut Up Firecraft Users, but she had obviously not paid enough attention to Amon's Professional Glares, and Robin countered it. I mean, she'd countered Amon's Glares, and he was the Master of His Art!

"Touko," Amon said darkly. "It's impossible to cheat on you. We haven't been seeing each other for a month."

"But… she's doing your laundry!"

"Yes."

"Until in a moment of insanity, you shot MY washing machine up, right?"

"Mutter. I'll pay for the damages."

"Darn right you will!"

Amon pulled out a couple of plastic trash bags and loaded the contents of the washer and drier into them.

"Come on, Robin. Help me carry these things."

"You can do it yourself!" Touko said angrily.

"I thought it would be easier since Robin's coming with me."

"Where?"

"Laundromat."

Touko slammed the door firmly behind them, but then threw it back open again: "AND YOU CAN TAKE YOUR SOCKS, TOO!" she yelled, and threw a handful of Amon's black socks at them. (Said socks had somehow managed to drape themselves over the fanblades; everybody knows socks have a life of their own, being as they disappear so frequently…)

"That was strange," Robin sighed.

"Mutter," Amon agreed.

And Amon and Robin left the apartment, Amon doing the shifty-eyes-stick-orbo-gun-around-corner thing the whole way.

……………………………..

The TV in the Laundromat was loudly spouting out a late soap opera, and a group of ladies were clustered around it, drying their tears with the toes of socks and hems of shirts.

__

'Ever since Luke went into the coma, I've felt so alone, Philip! How could you do this to me?'

'I swear, Marisa means nothing to me, Rosa!'

'But… oh, I don't know what I will do!'

There was a long, heavy pause, filled with subtle cheesy music and various tortured glances, during which the woman renewed their crying.

"Mutter," said Amon.

"I agree," said Robin. "Now, what needs to be dried? Take those clothes, put them in the dryer, close the door, put in the coins and press start. Think you can do that?"

"Yes. I think." He handed her some coins and stalked over to the dryers.

They sat on a bench with the soap opera to their backs.

__

'No, John! No! Don't! You have so much to live for! Think of your unborn quintuplets!'

Robin opened a Mountain Dew from the pop machine.

Mountain Dew: ka-FWEESH!

"Robin?"

"Mmm?"

"How do you sleep at night, if you drink all that caffeine?"

"I don't, really. I have a lot of nightmares… wake up in a cold sweat… that sort of thing."

"Nightmares? What about?"

"Oh…er… nothing!"

__

'Marcia! Maria has had a vision! It is said that Philip will also go into a coma soon!' the TV bellowed as that lovely soap opera music rent the air.

"That's really starting to get annoying," Robin muttered.

"Yes," Amon agreed darkly, and stalked over to the TV. The ladies got very flustered when he firmly changed the channel to the news, turned down the volume, shot them all a Glare Calculated To Maim Ladies Addicted To Soap Operas, and stalked back to Robin.

"Thank you, Amon." She finished off her Mountain Dew and headed over to the pop machine again. "Ooo! They have Frappachino!"

"What?"

"You know, like cappuccino, except it comes in a glass bottle and tastes really bad."

"Why drink it then?"

"Caffeine. What am I going to do about Touko? I wonder why she would be so jealous of your laundry."

"I do not understand Touko. I am beginning to think nobody does."

Robin agreed silently, and opened up her Frappaccino.

Frappaccino: scru-KREW-ccchhhs

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Don't ask me what the randomness about pigeons and oyster crackers I had Touko spout off means. Er… it has a great cosmic meaning and you must find it yourself, Grasshoppa.

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Meow-Bloossom: I should warn you, it gets worse…

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Elyndewen Startree: It is? Well, the dry cleaning man, he's my favorite character… :D

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AnimeGirl190: Thanks! Better than ever? –is happy—

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Kanno: IIADAWATA! Hmm… it does sound like how in those old undubbed unsubbed samurai movies, how they scream randomly and crap… and I have no idea what I'm saying anymore… And I'm talking too much again…

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Carri: Cheese-powered, nuclear armed tanks… the Evil Genius wheels in my head are turning. And I believe you've just found out why I run screaming from any tall, vaguely Asian man with medium-length black hair, especially if said individual is wearing a trench coat.

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CrazyTomboy: To Lt. Ra, c/o CT: Thank you for withdrawing your troops. I am glad the window screens do not taste good, or I should be frightened.

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XtinethePirate: _Teh unstobbable reviwingnezz!!!!_ DUDE! We have a Hemmingway/WHR connection! My cup runneth over! …And you can have Amon if I can have Sakaki.

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AnimeReviewer790: I hope your next birthday's better! And here. –pours boiling water over icepack—Oops… heh heh… run away…

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Gloria: PG, Gloria, PG! :D

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Prospero53223: There sure is. Some 26-ish chapters. …I wonder if I can work 'team building' in…hmm…

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Sakura Rain: Thank you! Thank you! –bows— And that icepack was a royal gift! Do not discard it lightly! :D

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St Earns: And the nations (with the exception of poor innocent bystander Australia) cried: Patchouli! Because they were most excited about the various natural phenomena and attempted to make Robin and Amon a crown of lettuce and I have no idea what I'm saying again…

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Well, that's all for this chapter. Thanks for the reviews!

–Ais skips off singing a pleasant little ditty— CAN WE FORGET ABOUT THE THINGS I SAID WHEN I WAS DRUUUNK/ I DIDN'T MEAN TO CALL YOU THAAAT/ I DON'T REMEMBER WHAT I SAID OR WHAT YOU THREW AT MEEEE…. Huh? What do you mean, I left the mic on? WHAT? –sound of screeching electrical equipment—


	8. Whereupon Doujima Appears

**Mid-story Disclaimer: We doesssn't owwwnsss it, doessss we, Precioussss? We don't tryssss to makesss money off of it, doesss we, Preciousssss? **

**Ais: Not Smeagol again, PLEASE!**

**Smeagol: Ssssmeagol and Gollum apologissseeee, but we were bored and thisss wasss our favorite chapter...**

**Ais: Remember what happened last time? SECURITY!**

**Smeagol: What did we ever do to you, preccioussss... Nooo, precciousss! Not the big white coat again!**

**Ais: --whew—Thank God.**

**Doujima: You can say that again. You recognize it, she doesn't own it. And thank God, we still don't own Smeagol. Hey Ais, you're leaving me in the story?**

**Ais: Well... you're my favorite character. And I couldn't exactly cut you out without a lot of rewriting... and you organized my closet... and bribed me with Prada boots... Oops. Did I say that out loud?**

"I'll take you to Doujima's apartment. You can spend the night there."

"Without telling her?"

Amon shot her a Glare Calculated To Indicate That Well-calculated Glares Have A Way Of Getting What One Wants.

"Oh. I see. Think we should risk going back to my apartment to get my things?"

"No."

"Neither do I."

'_And toNIGHT... there will be a LOW in the LOWer FIFties, with a _sliiiiight_ chance of shOWers!' _the irritating TV meteorologist woman sang perkily. (It was made even more interesting by the fact that she was, of course, speaking Japanese.)

"Who turned that up?" Robin asked.

Amon stood up and stalked over to the TV, shooting everyone around him a Glare Calculated To Make All Evil TV-volume-turner-uppers Shake In Their Shoes. One man immediately got up with a look of sincere fear on his face and ran for the door.

"Mutter," muttered Amon, and sat back down beside Robin, who had just opened a new Frappaccino.

"I'll walk you up," Amon said darkly, opening the door of the Great Black Audi.

"You don't have to do that."

"You don't know where Doujima's apartment is." (Idiot implied here)

Robin opened her mouth and closed it again.

Amon led her into a very, very, very tall building of white limestone with brass on the clear glass doors.

"She lives _here_?"

"Yes."

They walked up to the door and into a lobby, and then to a very shiny cage elevator. The elevator was prompt and silent. It brought them up one—two—three—four—five—six... um... nine? No, ten floors, to the very top. When they walked out of the elevator, Robin saw that they were in some sort of hall with a few fake palm trees and two doors, one at each end. On each was written: '1A. Doujima Yurika.'

"No, Robin. That's her front door."

"Oh. How can you tell?"

"The 'Welcome' mat is at the front door. The mat with the vines is at the back door."

"I see..."

Amon pressed the doorbell. "Dee-do-dee-do-dee-do-dee-do-dummm, duh-duh-duh-dummm..."

"Is that 'Fir Elise,' Amon?"

Amon, of course, did not want to admit that he knew what Fir Elise was, so luckily at that moment the piece stopped, and Yurika's voice could be heard. "Who's there?"

Robin jumped about two feet in the air, and Amon pointed to a tiny speaker above their heads. "Security system," he muttered, and pressed a button under the doorbell. The words "For The Last Time, Not A Doorbell, Darn You!" were written on it. "It's Amon and Robin."

"Do you have identification?"

Amon gritted his teeth hard and muttered to himself.

"What is it?" Robin asked.

Amon rubbed his forehead.

"Say it!" Doujima said again.

Amon muttered.

"Say it or you don't get to come in!"

Amon pressed the not-a-doorbell button again and quickly muttered: "YurikaDoujimaisthemostbeautifulwonderfulperfectpersoninallJapanEarthandpossiblytheUniverse! Happy now?"

"Yes," Doujima's voice said, obviously trying not to laugh. "I'm in the living room!"

The door slid open of its own accord, like an elevator door, and Amon and Robin were greeted by the most stylish mess they had ever seen. A pile of Manalos and Chanel shoes lay in a pile by the front door, along with a Dolce and Gabbana handbag or two. The hat tree was covered with very expensive coats and hats. Some very selective, expensively framed modern art prints hung on the white walls.

"Am I mistaken, or is the contents of her front hall alone worth over five thousand dollars?"

"Shh," Amon muttered. If it's possible to mutter a 'shh.'

Robin peered into the room they passed. It looked like a living room to her! (and Ais too...) It was green and white and palm-tree print, had a very large TV and stereo system at one end, and several very comfortable looking couches. There were cabinets in the corners, which probably contained DVDs, CDs, and videos. There was also a box of candy, a plant or two, and several hundred bottles of nail polish.

But this was apparently not the living room.

"I'm in the kitchen now!" Doujima's voice floated in.

Amon had the orbo gun out, of course, and was doing the Famous Stick-The-Gun-Around-Every-Corner Move. "Come on, Robin. Hurry."

"I'm hurrying." Robin shot a Glare Informing Hot Anime Guys To Shut Up at his back, which he pretended not to notice.

"Amon, are you doing the Stick-The-Orbo-Gun-Around-Every-Corner Move again?" Doujima laughed. "'Cause I'm back in the living room now."

"Mutter."

This door was apparently the living room. "Wait before you open the..." Doujima shrieked. "...door. Never mind."

On a white couch in her pink living room next to a very large cherry coffee table, Doujima sat staring sadly at the remains of her enormous playing card tower. "You knocked it over!"

"Sorry," Robin said, aghast. "We really didn't..."

"Mean to, I know. It's... okay. I was... going for the world record... but it's okay..."

"Oh Doujima, don't cry!"

"Doujima!"

"What!"

"Robin needs to stay here tonight!"

Doujima immediately perked up. "Oh good! You can have your pick of the extra bedrooms! I have three!"

"Three extra bedrooms in one apartment?" Robin glanced up at Amon.

"Penthouse. Parents rich, important people." He muttered.

Doujima was very happy. "We can get takeout! Do you like takeout? Pizza, or maybe sushi..."

"Er... that's fine. Whatever you want to do."

"...We'd be like sisters! I've always wanted a sister! I..." she paused mid-sentence. "Amon! You! Aren't! Wearing! Your! Bad! Black! Coat!"

"Oh yes! Amon, that reminds me. Here's the... um... you-know-what for the you-know-which." She secretly handed him the dry-cleaning ticket.

Oops. Bad thing to say in front of Yurika.

"What? What's the you-know-what? What's it for? Ooo! Is it a secret? You're hiding something! I bet..."

"I don't even want to know what you're thinking, Doujima, but whatever it is, that's not it."

Doujima turned back to Robin. "Tell me! Tell me!"

"Goodbye, Doujima. Goodnight, Robin." Amon tried not to smile as he turned to stalk back out.

"Amon! What'd I ever do to _you_?" Robin whispered. Amon just muttered... almost... dare I say it... gleefully? –shudder—

Did Robin burninate him? No, that wouldn't have been subtle enough. She used one of the Time-honored Methods that women have used for thousands of years when wanting to very subtly harm the men in their lives. She did the Kick-Him-Very-Hard-In-The-Bone-That-Sticks-Off-The-Ankle move.

And Amon, being the tough guy he is, only made a (muttered) sound, something like 'Oomph!' before trying not to limp out the door.

And of course, this being the auspicious day it already was, Doujima noticed. "It's serious, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you kicked him, didn't you?"

"I don't get it. I just handed him his dry-cleaning pickup ticket."

"Oh." Doujima looked disappointed, and then brightened. "I want pizza, how about you?"

"Um... fine."

"Where's your bag? Didn't you bring anything with you?"

"No."

Doujima paused, stunned. "You mean... nothing?"

"Nothing."

A smile began to creep across Doujima's face. "Does that mean... I get to give you clothes?"

"You don't have to do that. I'll wear this tomorrow and I don't need anything to sleep in."

"But you didn't bring anything."

"I don't need anything."

"But what about sleeping?"

"Um... no. I'll be fine."

"Well come on then! I'll get you something!" Doujima grabbed Robin's arm and began to run to the back of the apartment.

"But I don't..."

"Nonsense! Luckily there was a big sale day the day before yesterday, so there's a lot of stuff I've never worn!" Doujima opened the door to her bedroom.

As in Ais's room, clothes were everywhere. It was obvious, as with Ais, that Doujima changed clothes several times before deciding what to wear. Doujima grabbed a handle on her chest of drawers and pulled hard (the parallels to Ais are amazing), practically falling backwards when it flew open. "I've got some underclothes I've never worn—two for one sale! And..." she pulled open another drawer. "Nightgown or pajamas?"

"I really..."

"Pajamas it is! Aren't they cute?" She held up a camisole with an expensive-looking logo on it, and matching long pajama pants.

"Um..."

"And as for unworn underwear, I have... microfiber, cotton, mix, satin..."

"Um..."

"Mix it is! Are you going to wear that tomorrow?"

"Well..."

"I've always wanted to pick out an outfit for you!"

And we shall leave poor Robin to be tortured by the Ais-like Doujima.

**Ais A/n: Well then. I know, I know, I just had to leave Smeagol and Doujima in.**

**Doujima: I will now be doing the random disclaimers Ais throws in and any announcements!**

**Ais: Oh will you now.**

**And I'm very sorry, but there won't be any review responses because of emotional distress. And laziness. Sorry! –scoots away—**

**-------------------Ais**


	9. Doujima's Honorific Title Issues

**A&L v 2.0 Ch 9**

**Some larger changes in this chapter. I want to try to stick closer to the actual storyline, but I like the parts that don't stick close to the storyline so much... well, we'll see. The Ashleve actually belongs to GOPWA, but oh well. :D**

................................................

Poor Robin needed more Advil again. Her headache was back. Doujima had temporarily adopted Robin, and was now doing her makeup.

"Um... excuse me, Doujima..."

"...And then I told him that if... What?"

"Do you have any painkillers?"

"Painkillers? Are you okay? I have... let me go see!" She got up and ran to the kitchen. Robin heard a cabinet opening as Doujima began reciting medicine names. "...Ibuproden, Madol, Addil, aspirin, Mootrin, Ashleve, Tealennol..."

"Addil is fine."

"...ten kinds of cough syrup, three rare herbal supplements from Indonesia..."

"No, just the Addil."

"Leeks? Soothing music? Miso soup? Epsom salts? Spot on the couch? Whiskey?"

"Just... I just need to lie down a while, please."

"I'll come sit with you!"

"No, no, please..."

"It always makes me feel better to have somebody to talk to when I'm not feeling good..."

"I'll bet it does."

"Bepsi always soothes the stomach. Do you want one?"

"No! My stomach does not hurt! I just want to lie down! And an Addil!"

Doujima stuck her head around the door. "You don't have to snap at me! I'm just trying to help! You _really_ must not be feeling good."

Robin had found the makeup remover and was busy scrubbing her face down in a most disgusted manner. "No. I am not."

"Miho has scry-induced flu! I didn't think it was contagious, but maybe it is! Do you need me to call the hospital? Ooo! I could ride in the ambulance!"

"I just need Addil and a glass of water!"

"Filtered, purified, carbonated, flavored, spring, or tap water?"

.....................................................

At Doujima's insistence, Robin was being forced to lie down on a couch in some random room (Robin had finally just given up on resistance, and let herself be led around like a robot.)

"There! See, I got you a whole bunch of pillows, and..."

Robin tuned Doujima out and set her cell phones on a side table well within reach. She hoped that Amon or somebody would call her to go on a Hunt and she could get out of Doujima's apartment. The _talking_, the _choices _for absolutely everything...

"Here you are! I got you a blanket! See, isn't it cool? Once when my father went to America, he went to this really cool place called..."

Robin tuned out Doujima again, took her hair down, and collapsed on the pillow.

"...and see, I picked you out some pajamas, do you want to put them on now? Oh, never mind, you're already lying down... you aren't asleep are you? Anyways, I brought you a Bepsi, they always make you feel better when you're sick!"

Robin was instantly awake. Her hands quickly shot out and claimed the precious caffeine and sugar laden beverage (complete with ice, little umbrella, and twisty straw.) Of course, caffeine usually makes a headache worse, but...

"Oh! That's right! Pizza!" Doujima said. "Do you like just cheese? Or sausage and pepperoni, or maybe veggie? Or..."

"Cheese. That's all. I don't want anything else. At all."

"Well... okay then. If you're sure."

Doujima picked up her Very Cute Orange Cell Phone With The Key Chains (VCOCPWTKC) and dialed the originally named Pizza Palace. "Hello, yes? This is Doujima Yurika. I want to..." There was a long pause. "No, sorry, I don't... No... um... Excuse me, sir? OK, excuse me Biff, then. Um... No, I'm sorry, I really don't remember you. I just want a pizza. Yes... One farouke, but can you make that half cheese?" She paused again. "Look... er, Biff, I don't want a personal 10 discount. It'll be charged. Um... I should be in the computer... No, you cannot have my phone number! I just want the pizza! OK, GOODBYE!" She flipped the phone closed. "Robin, from now on I am ordering from Little Caesar's."

Robin groaned and rubbed her forehead. She never wanted to see another dratted piece of laundry in her entire life. Ever. Inauspicious things, laundry.

"Robin? Are you okay? You're not saying much tonight."

"I'm fine."

"How's the Bepsi with the twisty straw?"

"It's fine."

"Are you really hungry?"

"I'll be fine."

"Do you need anything? A heating pad maybe?"

"I'm fine."

"What is the nature of God and Man?"

"It's fine."

"Hah! Gotcha!"

Robin sighed. It was going to be a long night.

.......................................................................

"I mean, just because I show up late once..." Doujima was saying as Robin drifted in and out of sleep, occasionally slipping into strange dreams where random people with Doujima's voice were constantly talking and beating her over the head with twisty straws.

Fur Elise done in some peculiar tempo rent the air. Robin could hear Doujima rocketing out of her chair and storming in the general direction of the front door.

"Who is it?"

"Pizza delivery from Pizza Palace!"

"Come in! I'll be there in a second!" There was a pause and Robin heard the delivery guy's heavy footsteps.

"Oh. Biff. How lovely to see you again." Doujima's voice was dripped sarcasm. Biff seemed not to notice.

"I delivered it myself, Miss Doujima!"

"That's nice. But do we really need the four free liters of Coke?"

"It's a present!"

"Er... that's nice. And what's this?"

"It's free breadsticks!"

"There's just me and my friend Robin. We don't _need_ breadsticks! Think of all the carbohydrates!"

"But they have extra cheese sauce..."

Robin felt rather good about this turn of events. Doujima being irritated instead of her... sweet, sweet revenge. But she immediately felt bad. Doujima was just trying to be helpful... but still...

"Here's your change, Miss Doujima!"

"Yes, thanks, see you later, come again, GOODBYE!"

_Dee do dee do dee do dummm... _sang the doorbell.

"What now, Biff?"

"Did you really mean the part about coming again?"

Robin could hear Doujima slamming the door closed quite firmly, and muttering something in an unknown language. (It was actually a rather nasty Bulgarian swear word. Doujima's smarter than we think...) Robin had just managed to drift off to sleep again when Doujima bustled back in and flopped down in a comfortable armchair.

"Now we need to get up at least by 9:00 so that we can pick out your outfit!"

Robin abruptly sat up.

"What? No, Doujima!"

"Oh c'mon! It'll be fun!"

Robin gave up on ever sleeping again.

"Um... can we talk about this tomorrow? Hey, I'll help you rebuild your playing card house. I'm good at that."

"Sure! It's a tower, though. I'm going for the world record...."

At that precise moment (Robin thanked the Powers That Be, also known as The Authoress) the strange rendition of Fur Elise began to play again. Doujima rocketed out of her chair and skidded down the hall.

"Who is it?"

"Floral delivery for a Miss Yurika Doujima!"

"Ooo! I'll be there in a minute!"

Robin flopped back on the pillows again. _She_ had never gotten flowers. Life was cruel.

"A flower arrangement sent special rush delivery for you, Miss."

"Thank you! Let me get my purse..."

Robin pulled up the blanket to her chin. Humph.

"Oh good, there's a card! 'To Doujima-chan with a real big lot of love. Bet you'll never guess who it's from! Love, your very, very, very, very, very secret admirer, Biff.' WHAT?"

Robin smiled vaguely. _Sweet revenge... no, don't think that way... but it _is_, anyway._ As she slipped away into a very brief but still rather pleasant nap, she vaguely heard Doujima in the background.

"Oh my _God_, he did _not_ just call me 'chan!' He did _not_! That _creep_... who does he think he _is_? If he _ever_ does _anything_ even _resembling_ this _again_, I am _so_ calling the police! That..."

Here Doujima slipped into an old southern dialect of Welsh, and Robin gave a small, vague snore.

.............................................

**Yeah. Keep in mind this was written at two in the morning**.

**AnimeGirl190**: Gets worse, don't it? Poor Robin...

**Carri**: Well, short, meaningless chapters are sort of my specialty... .—hides from minions—

**Prospero53223**: Ack! Posting! Posting!

**CrazyTomboy**: Yes... I know... I'm a little scared myself...

**Fiery Demon Fox:** Thanks, as always, Thou Faithful Reviewer!

**Venus Smurf**: Thank you very much!

**Evilteddybear:** Thank you very much for the long review! –appreciates-- I wish I could reply here, but I think if I don't have another procrastinating streak I'll email you, because that was a LOOOOOONG review.

**St Earns**: The white flag has been flown, the war cry is shouted, IT HATH BEGUN!

**Slow Motion Runner**: Why thank you. I run rather in slow motion myself.

**youkai Draconas**: Thanks, I try! Although the revising takes a long time, so updating is generally sporadic.

**TheUniverseBeyond**: Hmm, this Jeremy sounds interesting...thanks, btw!

**Celestial**: Ooo! Like the name! And... well... I don't post that much... so... don't kill me! Please?

**Meow-Bloossom**: Confuzzuledness. That's what it is. :D

...........................................

**Is that everybody? Apologize if I left you out. I'm kind of all over the place. As usual.**

**May you never eat barbecued pizza,**

**Ais**


	10. Ais Vult

A&L v 2.0 Ch 10

Happy Holidays, everybody! I can't believe it was the first Sunday of Advent already! The year is going by so fast… Father lectured everybody for a very long time, basically about not getting drunk at office parties. Other than during Respect For Life Month, this is the only time he every does this.

…And I did not fall asleep, either. Humph.

------------------------------------

After Doujima had ranted and accidentally broken a Tiffany vase by throwing a book called "500 Ways To Relieve Stress In A Healthy Manner", and Robin had slept for about five minutes, Doujima had forced Robin to help rebuild the card tower. Robin was good at such things, because she has much more patience than any human possibly could.

Doujima had taken several pictures of The Biggest Card Tower Ever Built (in Doujima's house at least) and was printing them out. "Before you go to bed, I want to show you my cool security system!"

"Oh boy. Doujima, I'm tired."

"Oh, already? It's only one in the morning!"

"I know."

"You're no fun! Well… you can pick out which bedroom you want!"

"Orange, red, and cream?"

"Hey, I didn't do it! Sakaki did! Everybody helped me with my apartment when I moved into it. I should never have let him buy the paint."

"OK… What about the next one?"

"White, courtesy of Miho."

Robin peered in the room. "And what's the last one?"

"Sea green. Michael picked it out. Even though he was half asleep at the time, and he just sort of pointed to a color sample…"

"I love this room! What'd Amon do?"

"Painted the ceilings. He's tall. Hattori did the tape and the edges. It's too bad you weren't here! It would have been fun! The bathroom is down the hall and to the left. The lavender one, courtesy of Kate."

"Oh… um…" Robin really didn't want to think about the woman she'd replaced, but she didn't have to, being as Doujima was continuing:

"I have toothbrush and toothpaste in there, and if you need an extra blanket, it's in the closet."

"Goodnight, Doujima," Robin said quickly before Doujima could talk more.

"Oh! Goodnight, Robin!" Doujima closed the door behind her, and poor Robin practically collapsed.

"Wake up, Doujima!" a cheery voice cried, and threw open the darkening shades.

"…unh. G'way." Doujima said.

"It's 8:30! I let you sleep in!"

"Sleep two more hours. G'way"

"I made you espresso!"

"Don't wanninny. Wanna sleep."

"Eggs Benedict! Bacon! Pancakes! Potato cakes! Sausage! Leftover pizza, too!"

"Ugh. Whadda I haveta do to getcha g'way?"

"Get up, of course! You're no fun! I've been up since five!"

Doujima's covers were roughly pulled back and Doujima and her cozy flannel pajamas were exposed to the Cruel Light of the Frigid Dawn.

"Up! Up! Everything was such a mess, I cleaned!"

Doujima, squinting most unattractively, lifted up a corner of her purple eye mask and stared unappreciatively at Robin. "Wondering why it smells like citrus fruit."

"That's the floor soap! The espresso won't wait! It must be drunk at the precise height of flavor!"

"Ugh."

"Come on, Doujima! I really don't want to get yelled at by the Chief and Amon today!"

Doujima lifted up the eye mask again. "D'I get to pick out your outfit?"

"Well, I'm already dressed."

"Then there's no point in me getting up, is there?"

Amon was pacing and shooting dark glares at everything. "Robin's late. She's never late. Doujima's late. She's always late. Why did I have her spend the night at Doujima's?"

Michael turned up his headphones. Sakaki groaned and wished his Gameboy hadn't run out of batteries. Miho sighed. "You've already said that a hundred times, Amon," she said, sneezed, and blew her nose.

Amon turned on a dime and shot Karasuma a Glare Calculated To Cause Severe Nosebleeds.

"You're not exactly helping. I feel so sick, I should have stayed home today." She popped a cough drop and blew her nose again. "Never, never try to scry a broken-hearted teenager."

The bell on the elevator dinged, and a great commotion could be heard. The Chief popped out of his office, ready to do his Daily Scolding of People Who Arrive Late. Hattori was behind him, juggling quite a few large binders, a stack of papers, an ink cartridge, a newly-emptied wastebasket, a dustrag, a bottle of polish, a set of cups, and a teapot.

"No, no, no!" said the voice from the elevator as it slowly opened.

"Come on! You look fine!"

"I do not!"

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be! I already had to practically carry you the whole way."

"Well, there's a good reason for that! Give me back my coat!"

"It's what, ninety degrees out? I left it in the car. You don't need it."

"Ohhhhh, yes I do!"

It appeared to be Robin and Doujima, although nobody could really tell, being as they seemed to be having a fight over the 'open/close door' buttons on the control panel.

'Zwoop!' said the door as it opened.

"Oh, come on!"

'Zweep!' said the door as it closed.

"No!"

'Zwoop!'

"Do I have to make you?"

'Zweep!'

"Give me back my coat!"

'Zwoop!'

This time the other people in the STN-J could see Doujima's back as she attempted to pull out of the elevator something very well braced by all of its arms and legs. "COME… OUT… NOW!"

"NO… I… WO—whoa!"

Doujima shrieked as they catapulted out of the elevator backwards and fell in a heap.

'Zweep!' said the door.

"Ow."

"That hurt."

Miho and Sakaki ran over and began trying to untangle various female arms and legs. "Who's your friend, Yurika?" Miho asked, suppressing a sneeze as she helped Doujima up. "She looks familiar. But you know you shouldn't bring people to… wait! Is that…? Robin?"

"Doujima, can I have my coat back now?" Robin whispered. Other than that there was complete, utter, and absolute openmouthed silence in the room as everybody stared at poor Robin, slowly turning a bright beet red down to her toes. She was wearing a pair of sandblasted denim short-short-shorts (poor thing), which she was constantly pulling down with one hand while the other stayed firmly at her collarbone. A white T-shirt with the words 'Godsmack Tour '02' had been forced over head (it was on backwards.) She had apparently been attacked with large amounts of makeup while being held in a headlock.

Doujima was holding out her thumb and squinting, trying to gauge how far everybody's mouths had dropped.

"Robin, just how much is the inseam of those shorts?" Miho asked.

"One-and-a-half inches! Aren't they cute? And such a steal, only 43,656 yen!" Doujima said. "Look, even Amon's mouth dropped half an inch! Success!"

"Doujima, did Robin actually agree to this?" Miho said between sneezes. "Sakaki! Close your mouth!"

Even Robin's earlobes and toes were bright red now. She sniffed loudly and ran for the bathroom, blinking hard.

"Oh no!" Miho said as she ate yet another cough drop. "I'm in no condition to deal with this. Yurika!"

"I was just trying to help!"

-----------------------------------------

"Come on, Robin. It's okay. They'll all have forgotten by tomorrow." Miho tried to sound soothing, but her voice was scratchy from her aching throat.

Robin didn't answer. She was sitting in the far corner of the wheelchair bathroom stall with her knees pulled up to her chest.

"Robin, are you going to sit there all day feeling sorry for yourself?"

"I need some clothes before I can come out, Karasuma."

There was a squeak as the bathroom door opened, followed by another Miho sneeze. It never fails, doors in public bathrooms always squeak.

"Here," Amon said, pretending not to be severely embarrassed by opening the women's room door.

"It's your coat, Robin. And there's a letter." Karasuma coughed, handing it over the top of the door to Robin.

Robin thankfully buttoned up her coat and opened the Large Important-looking White Envelope.

(If you think it's going to be a confession of Amon's undying love for Robin, SORRY!)

Ahem. Yes. I was saying, the Large Important-looking White Envelope. Robin opened it up. Inside were two Medium-weight Official-looking Pieces of Paper, and on it was written a lot of stuff. Yup. And for transferring purposes, **the parts that Yurika crossed out are written with _underlines_**.

Letter One:

AN OFFICIAL DOUJIMA CONFESSION

This is a so-called confession written by me, Doujima Yurika, while being held at gunpoint by Amon of my own free will. I admit and confess that I willfully bribed Robin into letting me pick her out the cutest outfit, even though nobody seems to appreciate it. Said bribe was: I would get up and not let the espresso get ruined and keep Robin from getting chewed out by Amon and the chief if Robin would let me pick out an outfit for her to wear. I mean, can you blame me? That dress… Which was really a very stupid idea, now that I have an orbo gun pressed to my head now that I have more time to think about it.

Letter Two:

AN OFFICIAL APOLOGY

This is a forced an apology to Robin from Doujima for embarrassing Robin to death by making her wear the cute outfit even though I was just trying to help and my intentions were mostly of the absolute best. I'm sorry, yeah, and I want to still be your friend, and now could you please feel better and come out of the bathroom so Amon can stop giving me death glares, treating me like a two-year-old, and making me say all this cheesy stuff? Like now?

"What does it say, Robin?"

"It says I'm supposed to come out."

"_Achoo!_ Are you going to? I need to go home… I feel so sick…"

"I guess, now that I have my coat." Robin stood up and struggled with the Evil Locks that are always on bathroom doors. Stepping out of the room, she walked past the Sneezing Miho and got a paper towel. "I just want to go home and change." She scrubbed off a good portion of the makeup and glanced at herself in the mirror. "But I can't! That's right! Touko, Amon, the washer."

"What?"

"Nothing! I—well, actually, Touko sort of got in a big fight with me. I really can't stay with Doujima any more. It would be better if she didn't talk so much, and keep putting makeup on me. What should I do?"

"Sniff," said Miho. "I don't know. Go and change first, and you can think about it later. I'm going _home_."

…………………………………..

Ais A/n: I was actually going to not use this chapter, but it was requested, so here you go! The reason this chapter actually came into existence was as a parody of fics who have Robin randomly wearing other clothes that just don't fit. I think she only wore about three different outfits in the entire series… I still feel bad about it though, poor Robin!

Also, once again, apologies for the lack of updatingness, email answeringness, and review responses. My excuses this time: a male human; a holiday called Thanksgiving, which requires one to be around relatives, drink too much, and watch the Superbowl while eating about five thousand calories; a condition called The Approaching Holidays; and an especially dangerous and severe condition called Relatives and Extended Family.

The test is on Wednesday, don't forget to study.

May you not have relatives like mine,

Ais Herself


	11. The Highly Important and Lifechanging De...

**AN V 2.0 Ch. 11**

**Ais A/N: It has been a LONG time, hasn't it. Part of the reason was my computer crashing, part of the reason was pure lazy stubbornness, but most of it was because I'm not quite sure just where to go. I might just keep posting the story with rewritten or minorly edited parts, at this point, although it goes SO far from the original storyline. Some parts of it I just don't like, but some parts I find so funny I just may have to keep them in. (Me finding them funny probably means that nobody else does, but still….) If anybody who's already seen the story has any preferences let me know.**

……………………………………

Amon was pacing back and forth glaring at everything that moved. Doujima was sitting backwards in a chair pouting. Michael was looking up somebody named Ais on the Internet to make sure she didn't have a criminal record. Sakaki was pretending to be very interested in pouring a Mountain Dew. Hattori was simultaneously dusting all the furniture, carrying seventeen binders into Kosaka's office, making tea, and fixing a leaky faucet. Kosaka was pretending to go over some files.

This was what Robin encountered when she walked back into the office proceeded by the Sneezing Miho.

"Sniff. I'm going home," Miho said. "I don't know why I even came today. I'll go tell the Chief."

"I need to go home and change but my Vespa's at my apartment," Robin said, barely above a whisper. She didn't want to draw undue attention to herself, and quite frankly at that point I wouldn't either.

"But…" Doujima began, but she was not yet immune to Sullen Glares of Amonish Personages.

"Aha!" Michael said. "It seems she was caught running around at two in the morning screaming something about pink elephants!"

Of course, everyone ignored him, and the Great Mother Goddess of Rampant Self-Insertion secretly painted a big purple stripe down Michael's mullet.

"I'll drive you back to Doujima's," Amon muttered.

"Thanks."

"Sneeze," said Miho.

……………………………….

Amon sat firmly on the right of the car and Robin sat firmly on the left. Amon looked firmly out his window, and Robin looked firmly out of hers. Sitting next to a Robin in short-short shorts and eyeliner was apparently too much for Amon to handle, despite his Badass Front, and even though Robin had her coat on.

Amon coughed twice, paused, and coughed twice again. Then he paused and coughed twice yet again, and he had just decided that it was better not to say anything at all when Robin began to talk.

"Are you okay, Amon? I didn't think Karasuma's flu was contagious, but…"

"No," Amon interrupted, his voice inevitably dark. "I was about to say something."

"Then why were you coughing?"

Amon pretended he didn't hear that. "I was going to say, what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'll go apologize to Touko for whatever it was I supposedly did."

"I have to pay her back for the washer."

"Or I could just stay at Doujima's again."

"No!" said Amon.

Robin looked over at him.

He coughed again. "I mean, it must have been embarrassing for people to be staring at you like that."

Robin stared.

He mentally kicked himself, realizing that that was _not_ a Badass Thing to say. "I mean, we can't afford any more mistakes like that. Whatsoever." _What is wrong with me?_ He wondered.

_What is wrong with him? _Robin wondered, and resisted a very strong urge to shake her head in despair. _The only times Amon notices me, I'm either doing his laundry or wearing some ridiculous outfit. _

..…………………………….

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, or at least back at the STN-J, the remaining STN-J members (i.e., Doujima, Sakaki, and Michael) were sitting around not working again. They were discussing what Robin could do, and they had just decided when Robin, looking normal in the Cool Black Dress (except for part of the eyeliner, which was waterproof and would not come off without an oil-based makeup remover) and Amon came back in.

"What's going on?" Robin asked, still not above a whisper, so of course she had to say it several times before anybody noticed.

"Well," Michael began….

……………………………

"What the _hell_ do you _mean_ I'm staying at Sakaki's?" Amon yelled.

_What's wrong with him? I've never heard him actually_ yell _before!_ Thought Doujima.

_What's the deal with him? _Wondered Sakaki.

_Cheese puffs. Cheese puffs. Where did I put them? _Mused Michael.

"Well, Robin needs a place to say, doesn't she?" Doujima said, and pouted. "Because you won't let her stay with me now, probably. Even though it would be fun. And Michael sort of discovered kind of accidentally by accident that the database has floor plans of all the Hunter's homes, and since Miho is sick and you don't have a spare bedroom and there's no way she's staying at Sakaki's, the logical solution is that you stay at Sakaki's and let Robin have your room, isn't it?"

"No it isn't. That makes no sense whatsoever."

"Well, it's the best we could come up with, unless Robin and Touko get over whatever it was they were mad at each other about, or Robin comes back to say with me."

"NO!" Robin cried. "Heh. Ahem. I mean, even though I had so much fun at Doujima's and I'm sure Touko is all over whatever it was she was mad at us about, maybe… um…."

"I'm sorry, Robin!" Doujima sniffed. "I didn't mean to… I don't… OOoooOOohhhHHHhh!"

"Oh God. There she goes again," Sakaki groaned as Doujima burst into tears. He stole Michael's Walkman before Michael could put it on. "Your turn, buddy."

"Hey! Oh well," Michael began to fish around in the piles of various amounts of junk on his desk until he found a package of Kleenex. "Here you go, Doujima." He rolled his eyes and patted her shoulder as though he was petting a nightcrawler, just in case she got mad. "It'll all be okay."

"Danks."

Doujima's nose: SQWONK!

"Michael! What IS this you're listening to? Is this…Raffi?" Haruto said, removing the ear buds.

"Oh. Heh heh. About that…"

"I won't do it," Amon said frankly above the noise.

**Ais A/n: Look! Cliffhanger! Ooooooo! Aren't you all so excited?**

**Thank you to ALL the people who reviewed. An average of eleven reviews per chapter! No, there are no review responses, partially due to laziness and partially to the fact that absolutely nothing on this entire computer is organized yet (it took me forever to find this chapter in my files), but I appreciate the reviews! It's nice to know what people think.**

**Kleenex,**

**Ais**


	12. Chad

Amon and Laundry version 2.0 Chapter Twelve:

_**Chad**_

**A/N: Well, you'll notice a big jump in the story here; hopefully I've cleared it up a little! I do miss the Plastocenes, but perhaps they'll appear somewhere else…. You never know.**

………………………………………………………………………

_Vrrooooom chunkachnkachnkachnka BAM! SCREEEEEEECH! Chunk._

Amon ignored the person he had almost hit. It was just a dent, after all. He had not time for these trivial matters, as he was On A Mission. He was _not_ going to stay at Sakaki's apartment, that he wasn't. No, he certainly was not. Nope. Not at all…

The guy had stuck his head out of his (old) car and woke Amon from his highly intelligent reverie by yelling a stream of obscenities. We shall not repeat them here, except that the gist of them was, "Dammit, man, watch where you're going!"

Or something to that effect. It really didn't mean much once you removed the cuss words.

He hung up the phone, rolled down the window in a very cool manner and muttered, "Government official, sir. We apologize for any difficulties. I am afraid we are working on some very confidential business, and I do not have time to stop. Civilians need not worry. Let us do the worrying."

He rolled the window back up and drove off. _God, I love doing that! _He (almost) smiled.

……………………………………………

"Screeeeech!" screamed Amon's car tires as he pulled to a sudden stop outside of an apartment, which shall be briefly known as A Familiar Apartment.

Inevitably pulling out his orbo gun, he once again somehow managed to make it up The Familiar Apartment in less than fifteen minutes. Quickly glancing around for Suspicious Characters, he pressed the doorbell.

The identity of The Familiar Apartment was revealed when Touko came to the door. But this Touko didn't look much like any other Touko anyone had ever seen. Her hair was pulled back tightly, and she was wearing a huge black hat with several hundred yards of sheer black veiling. She was wearing a vaguely Robin-like dress that went down to the floor, and obsidian mourning jewelry. She also was had on no makeup, but you couldn't tell through all the yards of veil.

Touko's apartment was as transformed as she was. All the electric lights were turned off, the shades were closed, and about a million little candles were lit everywhere. Black crepe was draped everywhere, all the mirrors were covered, the clocks were stopped, and an organ cannon played in the background.

"Yes?" Touko sniffed, and lifted a lacy white handkerchief to her nose.

For ten whole seconds Amon was struck dumb. I admit it's hard to tell this due the fact he doesn't actually talk, but he was. "Touko… what exactly is this?"

She blew her nose. "As if you didn't know!"

Amon paused. "No, I don't."

"Murderer! You killed my washer!"

"Yes. I came over to pay you ba…"

"As if money could make it better!"

Suddenly it dawned on Amon. "You're in mourning… for a washer?"

"Not just any washer! He was my friend!"

"Your… friend?"

"Yes! Chad!"

"…Your washer… was named… Chad."

Touko burst into tears. "Yes!"

_Remind me why I ever went out with you again? _"I'm… very sorry."

"Come in. You should see the terrible wrong you have done!" Touko wept.

Yes indeed. Chad the Deceased Washer was in a specially made coffin in the living room, draped with black silk and covered with red rose petals. There was a large heart of red roses at its… I mean, _his_ feet and a cross of white roses above his control panel.

"Sniff," said Touko. "The visitation starts in half an hour. Perhaps it would be better for you to leave. I want you to think very hard about what you have done."

"Wait. I wanted to pay you back for the washer. It looked like a 1996 model. Is 22,680 yen (yes, 200), enough?"

"Age didn't matter to me. Money can never heal the loss!"

"If you don't want it…"

"…but maybe 226,620 yen (2,000) can help."

Amon's eyes did a fair imitation of popping out of his head despite his usual no-showing-emotion rule. "I don't think I heard you correctly."

"226,620 yen, you psychopath Chad killer."

Amon left Touko's apartment a poorer but wiser man.

Well, maybe not wiser, but certainly poorer.

Wiser only in that he now knew not to date women who were emotionally attached to cleaning machines.

……………………………………………………………

**A/N: I have a question here: Would you like the story to end here, or for it to continue on to Chad's funeral and tie up after that? I'm thinking of continuing, but there's a sort of ending type thing up there…. I may post parts of the story I left out as one-shots with some changes. I don't know yet…**

**Anyways. Imagine: Review Responses! (Especially in case this is the last chapter)**

Evilteddybear: Well, I think we'd have a LOT more HydeandAisfics but for that Hyde has only the vaguest semblance of Internet service, we live quite a few miles apart, and neither of us have licenses yet. (Although I think Hyde has a permit, I have nothing, as when I checked last July the driving school was full and I am lazy.) Clearing up the plotlessness is what I'm going for; I wasn't even going to put the Robin-clothes scene in, except that it was requested! (BTW, I accept all reviews, so I wouldn't have minded even if it was a flame!)

Prospero53223: It's a good thing you didn't die, as I don't want to be arrested for some sort of degree murder… :D Thank you, as always.

St Earns: Ahhh, the Win98 Daily Crash. I remember it well. Win XP makes me mad, as it consistently informs me that I should not go into Drive C lest I delete some important file and crash the system. Little does it know, I MUST, as all my old files are still stuck somewhere on it. I still don't have them organized… Anyways, I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Ayjah: Ooo, I like your name. Observe the update!

……………………….

**Thanks for all the reviews, etc., I have received from both versions of the story!**

**See you in the manga aisle of a bookstore sometime (as opposed to the funny papers?),**

**Ais**


	13. A LongAwaited Funeral

**Amon and Laundry: A Random Chapter: The Funeral.**

Ais A/N: Everybody loves Chad's funeral. Or at least the little green men that live in the cereal box do.

……………………………………………………………………………

_BEEPbeepBEEPbeepBEEP…_ yelled Robin's communicator.

"Amon? The paper? Doujima, could you get me the paper, please?"

Robin opened up today's copy of _The Snicklefritz Daily Dictatorship Times-Sun_ and flipped to the Obituary section. "Oh my…"

"What is it?" Doujima asked.

"Oh my, oh my, oh my…"

"Robin! What is it?"

"Touko has an obituary for her washing machine!"

"What the…"

"Yes, Amon. I see. Goodbye." Robin set down the phone. "Oh my, Doujima! Oh my, oh my, oh my…"

"I know that! What is it?"

"Touko is having a funeral for her washing machine… _Chad Deveraux-Washer?_ Yes, Chad Deveraux-Washer. And I'm going with Amon. We have to protect each other from Touko."

Doujima nodded seriously. "I can see why."

…………………….

Amon and Robin walked unwillingly towards a funeral home-esque building where the funeral was being held. A long line of people was at the door. A good portion of them were Touko's friends; more of them were the media, come to see this curiosity; and a very few of them were curious psychiatrists who had heard of Touko through said media.

All of Touko's friends were either very emotional or they were very good at faking emotion; at any rate, they all had makeup running down their faces in black streams.

"And it is said that Administrator Zaizen denies the responsibility of orbo in Mr. Deveraux-Washer's death," a newsman talking in front of a camera said. "Orbo is a strange, unknown substance used for unknown purposes but known to be fatal unless it's non-fatal…" Then he saw Amon and Robin. "Sir! Miss! Were you friends of the deceased?"

"No comment."

"But sir, can you give us any information as to the involvement of orbo in Mr. Deveraux-Washer's death?"

"No comment. Orbo is not for the common people to know about."

"So you admit that the substance _orbo_ does exist? Are you privy to inside info about it?"

"No comment. Robin, keep walking."

"And that was… um… two people going to the funeral of Chad Deveraux-Washer, the largest and perhaps only funeral ever held for a washer in history…"

Suddenly Robin stumbled back a few steps and pointed vaguely at the white letters stenciled on the glass door.

"'_First Holy Plastocene Church'_," it read. "_'Come and share in our artificiality._'"

Amon and Robin shared a look that meant, "The whole world has gone insane."

……………………………………………

"_We are gathered here today to mourn the loss and celebrate the life of Chad Deveraux-Washer,"_ the officiator of dubious credibility began. _"A brilliant washer in every respect…"_

"Robin," Amon muttered. "Remind me what exactly we are doing here again."

"Hush."

"…_who overcame a sad upbringing to earn his place in Miss Masaki's household…"_

"Mutter."

"Amon, hush."

"…_from his birthplace in the Whirlpool factory…"_

"Do you have a pair of nail clippers, Robin?"

"No."

"…_he was a skilled fisherman…"_

"Can washing machines fish?"

"Amon! Would you stop it!"

"… _his best friend Stewart Gevalia-Coffeemaker, who passed away last year under strange circumstances involving fire…"_

"What are you doing, Amon?"

"Playing Solitaire on my PDA."

"Well, stop."

"…_Thank you."_

"Is it over?"

"He was the first speaker. According to the program there are four or five more."

"_What?_"

"Four or five more."

"For a washer."  
"Yes, for a washer."

Another man stepped onto the podium. _"I am…"_ (here he relayed a big, long, impossible name) _"… and for those of you who don't know who I am, I'm the factory worker who put the last bolts in Chad, sending him along the assembly line…"_

Somebody burst into tears up in the front.

"This is going to be a long haul."

"We know that, Amon. You're so out of character today."

"And we all know whose fault that is! Don't get snippy with me!"

"You use words like _snippy_?"

"Why the hell not?"

"Shhhh!" said somebody behind them.

"Excuse me."  
"Sorry."

"Chad was brilliant in every respect, overcoming a small load capacity to…" 

"See? I told you that you were disturbing people!"

"You were disturbing them! Your voice has this annoying high pitch…"

"High pitch? Me? Why…"

"Who's out of character now?"

"_SHHHHH_!"

"Excuse me."

"Sorry."

"… _I told him that no matter what happened, he could always come back to the Whirlpool factory and me…"_

……………………………………………

**_TWO HOURS LATER_**:

"Amon. Wake up."

"Zzzsnorkhuhwecan'taffordanymore_mistakes_!"

"Yes, I know. They're about to proceed to the burial ground. We have one of those little flag things to stick on the car."

"Don't tell me, police escort?"

"Yes."

"Oh…"

"Amon! You're in a… church… type… thing!"

"Fine. We're going."

……………………………………….

**_EIGHT MINUTES LATER_**:

"City Dump? Amon, are you sure?"

"I followed the people in front of me."

A guy in a day-glow uniform (GIDGU) directed the Bad Black Car towards a parking space.

"I guess it's right then."

They slammed the doors and were directed by the GIDGU to join the grieving family in a blue tent-like-thing.

"Please join the grieving family in the blue tent-like-thing, sir."

Thus they did indeed join the grieving family under the blue tent-like thing. Not to be hopelessly redundant or anything like that.

Touko was sitting on a chair in front of the coffin being comforted by a bevy of weeping friends.

"I… swear… on this… blue tent-like-thing… that I… shall never… love… again… never… love another… as long as I… LIVE!" she wept dramatically. "Every… time… I love… every… time… I… only end up… hurting… somebody… or myself…"

The string section swelled to a crescendo with a nice woodwind-brass undertone, despite an unfortunate accident having to do with the first trombone's ex-girlfriend and a bottle of hair gel.

……………………………………………

**_TEN MINUTES LATER_**:

"Amon! Wake up!" Robin hissed.

"Zzzzsnorkwecan'taffordanymoremisakes!"

"Right. They're about to bury Chad."

"…_Ashes__to ashes, dust unto dust, mortality hath come to claim its price…"_

"Mutter."

"I agree."

"…_From the blessed artificiality of this world to the glorious plastic heaven of the next…"_

"It would be moving if it wasn't at the dump."

"And if it wasn't a washer… why did you ever go out with her anyways?"

"Mutter."

"…_while your earthly remains turn unto the evil, natural, corrupted, sinful dust, your soul shall become pure and white…"_

"I don't agree with this theology. Do electronics have souls?"

"Michael would say they do, I'm sure."

"…_In the name of the Rubbermaid, the…"_

"It's almost over."

"…_Amen."_

"What?"

"No. They said _amen_, not _Amon_."

"Oh."

And Chad Deveraux-Washer's 'earthly remains' were lowered deep into the trash heap and covered with old tires and rusty bedsprings. Touko walked away weeping with her friends, and the psychiatrists walked away taking notes. The officiator of dubious credibility walked away a hundred dollars or so richer, the media reported, and Amon and Robin rolled their eyes as they removed themselves as quickly as possible from the scene. They slammed the door, rolled up the windows, locked everything, and hauled it out of there… well… like the devil was on their tail, for lack of a better, less colloquial term.

"Mutter!"

"I have never agreed more."

…………………………………………………………………..

**Ais A/N: **Augh! I 'organized' my files again, and therefore couldn't find where I hid my A&L chapters. You see, up until chapter six or so, everything is neatly filed under its chapter number. After that, it greatly resembles pig wrestling. You know where they grease a smallish pig and random people run around in a foot of mud trying to catch it? Well, the chapters manage to be both the pig and the mud at the same time.

Yes, my analogies make so much sense, don't they?

Anyways, what with that and being involved in a lot of rather long religious ceremonies and watching _Daria_ and my somewhat overbearing grandmother and Illinois winning and the tragically trying upkeep of a new hairstyle, it's been awhile. Due to the ever-famous Popular Request, A&L will be slightly more extended, although I did consider ending it on this chapter (I don't wanna end it anyways!) It will be sorta-kinda-maybe as ontopic as I can get it, and I'll post selections of the offtopicness as one-shots. Sound any good?

And, because this particular a/n is so long, there won't be any review responses in this particular chapter. Look for them next time though! Thanks!

**Sneeze,**

**_Ais._**


End file.
